


(Emotional) Journeys Through Space and Time

by StandinShadow



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Team Bonding, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-21 04:40:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14277117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StandinShadow/pseuds/StandinShadow
Summary: Drabbles covering bonding moments, character building, and theories not addressed in Voltron the show.





	1. The Yellow Paladin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Connectedandsafeandloved](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Connectedandsafeandloved).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For connectedandsafeandloved's birthday!
> 
> Moments between Hunk and the team (and Lotor) that we didn't get to see in Season 5.

  “So, you’re Prince Lotor, huh?” Hunk says as he slides into a chair in front of the tube holding the mysterious prince. If it was up to Hunk, he wouldn’t have kept Lotor on the Castle at all. It’s not safe, having Zarkon’s son this close to all of the Lions. What if he steals Black? Or even worse, Yellow? Hunk hasn’t even figured out how to protect Yellow from that. He needs to make some sort of automatic lock only he and the team know the code for to give to each Lion. At least for as long as the tall, smirking man in front of him stays on the ship. “You’ve got better hair than I expected. But the same smirk.”

  “And you’re the yellow paladin,” Lotor says in a low drawl, raising an eyebrow as Hunk gives a slight nod in return. Lotor stares at him with a slowly growing smirk. Hunk resists the urge to roll his eyes, instead giving Lotor a carefully guarded stare as he leans back in the chair. Lotor starts chortling, throwing his head back as though Hunk said something funny. Hunk’s stare tightens into a glare, hands pressing against the edge of the chair. He doesn’t like that laugh. “I thought your lion was known for friendliness.”

  “That would be Blue, my Lion is loyal and you haven’t earned that yet,” Hunk answers him in an icy voice, gaze tight as he stares at Lotor. Lotor looks back at him for a moment thoughtfully, pressing one finger under his chin. Hunk thinks he looks kind of like a comic book villain, but he’s not going to give Lotor an awesome compliment like that.

  “I hope that in the future I’m able to earn your trust, maybe we could even be true allies,” Lotor suggests, a distinct measure of hope in his voice. Hunk can’t tell if it’s genuine or not. Hunk has always been suspicious by nature, and Lotor pings every single wary bone in his body. He’s sending definite bad vibes. Plus, he did have his general take over that guys mind on Puig, and who knows what else he’s done? They barely know anything about Lotor outside the fact that he’s willing to kill them to get what he wants, that he’s obsessed with quintessence, and that he’s … admittedly giving them really good information. But still, he’s also got that smirk.

  “Yeah, don’t see that happening,” Hunk mutters with a slight eye roll, leaning back in his chair to put some space between himself and that face. Then Hunk lets out a small sigh, cocking his head to the side as he glances over at Lotor. Hunk might not trust Lotor or want anything to do with him, but he also wants to be fair to him. “But I’m grateful for the information you’re giving us. You’ve been a big help to the coalition.”

  “Whatever it takes to prove that I’m trustworthy,” Lotor promises him as he meets Hunk’s gaze with a glare that’s like steel. Yeah, Hunk’s not finding that especially reassuring. But still, if Lotor is gonna be here, Hunk figures he might as well get as much information from him as he can.

  “Give me the name of your conditioner,” Hunk answers him with a slight grin, cocking one eyebrow. Lotor stares back at him, mouth falling open slightly as he brings his hands down to his sides. Hunk shrugs a bit as he leans back in the chair with a light smirk, knowing Shiro will get here any minute. “For the mice.”

* * *

  Hunk listens to the ring of the space phone, biting his lip as he waits for a face to show up on screen. Hunk knows that they’re supposed to be careful about how often they call the Blade, but well, he misses Keith. There’s only so many times that he can polish the red paladin armor and tell stories about Keith to the others before it starts to feel hollow compared to having his friend on the Castle. And Hunk knows that Keith doesn’t … he doesn’t want to be there anymore, he wants to be with the Blade. Hunk just doesn’t get why, since Keith seems kind of … unhappier every time Hunk calls him.

  “Keith! Hey, I haven’t talked to you in a few weeks, how is the Blade?” Hunk calls as the image of his friend, slightly blurry, pops onto the screen. Keith’s expression is carefully blank, too careful, like he’s trying to imitate Kolivan. It looks wrong on Keith’s face, which always gave away whatever he was feeling. Hunk kind of misses that, now that Keith’s gone. After a second, Keith’s mask breaks, a small frown and scrunched eyebrows coming onto his face. Hunk grins widely over at the video screen because there’s the Keith he knows and misses.

  “We’re doing well, I have to admit that Lotor’s intel was better than I thought it would be,” Keith answers him with a small laugh, nervous and weak in a way that doesn’t fit him. Hunk frowns a bit, because when they first got on the ship, Keith was always confident. Sometimes too confident, but … well, Hunk prefers that decisiveness to how Keith’s been since right before he left for the Blade, more distant than before and unsure and – but no, Keith wants this. Hunk’s being selfish. Keith smiles suddenly, small and weak, gaze dropping as he runs his hand over the hilt of his blade. “I guess I didn’t need to go after him after all.”

  “You couldn’t have known! None of us thought Lotor was trustworthy,” Hunk reminds him as her crosses his arms defensively. Besides, Lotor might be giving them good intel now, might seem okay, but who knows what’ll happen if they end up on opposite sides again. They know Lotor’s willing to go to the limit to accomplish his goals, and Hunk isn’t naïve enough – not anymore – not to think that could put them on opposite sides someday.

  “Yeah, but if I’d listened to all of you about the coalition – well, it doesn’t matter now,” Keith cuts himself off with a quick shake of his head, gaze tight as he looks past Hunk and toward the wall. Hunk frowns a little, because wait. Is Keith unhappy? Part of why Hunk’s never brought up Keith’s armor or the idea of him coming back to the Castle is because he figured he was happier with the Blades. But if that’s not true, well then, why wouldn’t Keith come home? “We’re all doing good work.”

  “Yeah, we are,” Hunk agrees after a beat, giving Keith a weak smile, he knows doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Keith’s right about that, and he has become one of Kolivan’s most trusted Blades, from what Hunk can see. Maybe he’s not unhappy, just guilty? Hunk has no idea how to ask about any of that though. Keith meets his gaze with a tight nod. Okay, Hunk’s going to try now. “Keith, you know – it’s okay. To be wrong, I mean.”

  “Thanks, Hunk,” Keith says softly with a small smile that Hunk can’t help returning with a hopeful grin of his own. Maybe, not today, but someday, Keith will be back with Voltron in some way and their space family won’t feel quite so broken. Until then, Hunk will keep calling him once a week and polishing his armor. It’s all he can do.

* * *

  “Lance, buddy, I wanted to talk to you about earlier, I was worried that I kind of upset you with the jokes,” Hunk calls as he walks into Lance’s room, awkwardly waving over at his friend with one hand. Hunk hadn’t meant to tease Lance as much as he had earlier, or well. Okay, he had, but it was supposed to be friendly teasing, like when Lance made fun of him for his crush on Shay or how he couldn’t get the flight patterns down right in the show. If he’d known Lance was already feeling down, he would’ve chosen a better moment. But what’s done is done, and now it’s time for some grade A Hunk comfort, milkshakes included.

  “It’s fine, Hunk, I’m fine. I just miss my mom and Veronica and Luis and Marco a lot,” Lance admits as he rolls up into a sitting position, resting his arms on his knees as stares over at Hunk. Hunk gives him a small smile, eyebrows sloping down as he takes in his friend’s words. Of course he does, Hunk feels the same way about his moms and his older brother. Lance takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he presses one hand against his sheets. “The Garrison was the furthest I’d ever been from them, and it was still only a few hours away.”

  “I know, buddy, and you know, I didn’t – I should’ve – I know you don’t like to cry in public,” Hunk mutters as he walks over to Lance’s side, wringing his hands a little as he looks everywhere but at his friend’s face. Hunk’s good at comforting, but not at offering it, and he’s not quite as good at the words part as Lance. He’s more of a hugger. “But if you want to now, that would be okay.”

  “Thanks, Hunk,” Lance mumbles in a watery voice before he leans his head onto Hunk’s shoulder. Hunk wraps his arm around Lance’s shoulders, squeezing softly as Lance lets out a few small sniffles, the corner of Hunk’s shirtsleeve getting a wet spot. Then Lance pulls back, giving Hunk a watery grin as he sits up. “You know, if I couldn’t have my family here with me, there’s no one I’d rather be with than my best friend.”

  “Right back at you,” Hunk tells him with a warm smile as he pats Lance on the shoulder. Lance looks over at him with a grin, though now his words are ringing in Hunk’s ears. They’ve been gone for a while now, almost a year. Probably. Keeping track of time in space is kind of hard. Their families must be so worried, and Hunk misses them so much. “And you know, we’re a third of the way there, so pretty soon we might get back home. That’ll be weird, being back on earth without the Lions.”

  “Yeah, I think weird is just going to be our normal from now on,” Lance says with a low sigh, gazing across the room as Hunk presses closer to him on the couch. Hunk takes a deep breath, because he guesses that’s true. Hunk just hopes it’s a weird their families recognize.

* * *

  “Hey Shiro, are you feeling all right?” Hunk cries as he sees their team leader across the hangar, giving an awkward wave as Shiro turns around to stare over at him. Hunk swallows deeply, because he doesn’t know what to say now that he’s thrown the truth out. He’s felt like something was up with Shiro ever since the whole Kral Zera deal, and it doesn’t seem like anyone else is gonna bring it up to him, between Lance dealing with being the voice of reason Keith being straight up gone, and Allura getting new magic and everything else. So, it’s Hunk’s turn to be a leader, or a kind of leader and find out why Shiro’s been so yell-y lately. “Not that you don’t seem okay, you’ve just been kind of … mad lately.”

  “Does it make you miss Keith?” Shiro asks in a surprisingly harsh voice, one that makes Hunk freeze. Because no, it doesn’t make him miss Keith. Keith would get angry sometimes, but Hunk could always – well, okay, after a certain point – tell it was coming from a sense of insecurity or justice or – it wasn’t _mean_ or cold like Shiro’s anger is. Shiro’s attitude terrifies Hunk.

  “Okay, that’s the kind of stuff I mean. Normally you’re … nicer than that,” Hunk says before he can stop himself, wincing slightly as Shiro raises an eyebrow. Hunk takes a deep breath, because he’s not wording any of this right. Even before he came back acting differently, Hunk was always a little intimidated by Shiro. Not because he wasn’t kind or a good leader, just that he was famous and Hunk didn’t really know him that well. Hunk gives Shiro a small grin, eyebrows scrunching together as he stares over at him. “Not that you’re not being nice, just distant. We haven’t even had any piloting lessons since you got back.”

  “You’re piloting the Yellow Lion just fine,” Shiro tells him in a warm voice, giving Hunk a smile that almost looks like the ones he used to give them before he disappeared. Hunk feels a wave of nostalgia fill him, for back when things were easy, and everyone was where it felt like they belonged. Now everything seems so turned around and Hunk isn’t sure how to get things back.

  “Yeah, no, I guess I am, sorry for bothering you Shiro,” Hunk mutters with a quick nod, trying to lighten the mood. Maybe he’s overthinking things. Shiro has plenty of reason to be distant or angry, he just got kidnapped and held by the Galra again a few weeks ago. God knows Hunk has no idea how he would hold up after that, and if all that happens with Shiro is a few bad moods and some … bad decisions, that’s fair. “I think the stress is just starting to get to me, you know?”

  “Trust me, I know,” Shiro whispers, voice so low that Hunk almost doesn’t hear him. but Hunk does, he hears the haunted tone in his voice, the exhausted confusion. Hunk glances back at Shiro but he just smiles blankly before walking away, like he didn’t whisper anything. Hunk’s suddenly terrified Shiro doesn’t know he did. maybe he’s not thinking about things enough.


	2. Of Stardust and Hair Ties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Connectedandsafeandloved's birthday!
> 
> Krolia and Keith are stuck in the first few weeks after they meet, and while anxieties exist, a bond starts to build between them as Keith gets to know his mom better.

  “Hey, would you mind if I joined you out here?” Krolia calls as she walks onto the deck, spotting her son sitting on the floor with his arms crossed against his chest, legs bent up underneath them. He wonders if he looks even smaller to her now than he did when she first saw him on the ship a week ago. Keith wonders why he ended up so short, but then she’s short for a Galra, and he guesses that applied to human height too. Krolia comes over to Keith a small smile as she comes to stand a few feet away from him, looking unsure if she should sit down or not. It reminds Keith of himself on the castle. “I understand, if you do. I’ve just always liked watching the stars.”

  “So do I,” Keith tells her as he tries to return his smile, though he’s not sure he manages as he runs his hand down the back of his neck. Krolia mimics the gesture for a second, but then pulls her hand back. Mirroring. Keith used to do that with Lance and Hunk sometimes, on the Castle. Keith guesses that’s why he does it? “I don’t mind, if you want to watch.”

  “Thank you. Did you watch the stars, back on earth? They were different there, less visible, but no less beautiful,” Krolia muses as she slides down onto the floor next to him, leaning back on her wrists as she stretches her legs out in front of her. Keith swallows as he gazes out at a swiftly moving ship, wondering if it’s maybe Matt or Rolo and Nyma or someone in the Coalition. Maybe it’s even the Castle, just too far away to see up close.

  They’re all connected, after all, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now. Hasn’t since … well, since he ran away.

  “Yeah, dad always told me that’s where you were,” Keith says with a small scoff, one that sounds bitter and hopeful at the same time. Keith remembers his dad pointing out constellations, imagining his mom there or there. Keith used to try and guess if she was each shooting star in the sky, each ship. Then Keith got older, and he started looking for an escape from the hollow feeling in his chest where his dad used to be, where his mom should’ve been and – okay. His feelings toward Krolia might be a little complicated. “Back when I was a kid I never got what that meant, and when I got older, I thought it was because you were dead.”

  “Keith,” Krolia mutters in a low voice, glancing over at him softly. her face is filled with hurt and regret, gaze tired as she pressed her hands against the softly padded seats of the atrium deck. Keith half expects her claws to rip through the mat. Keith shakes his head though and gives Krolia a half-smile, because he’s not ready for that conversation. Not yet. “Right. I like looking at them because they made me feel connected, to you and your father, but also the rest of the Blade and the world.”

  “We’re all made of stardust,” Keith murmurs as he leans toward Krolia a bit, cocking his head slightly as he meets her gaze. Krolia blinks owlishly, cocking her head in the same direction, but then she laughs, bright and warm. After a moment Keith does too, because he might not be ready yet, but Keith thinks that someday he will be. And that’s a lot more hope than he had a few weeks ago.

* * *

  “So, you were a paladin of Voltron,” Krolia says one day over breakfast, breaking her piece of space karati in half. Keith stops lifting his spoon mid-air, eyes widening a fraction as he stares over at her. He looks anxious, biting his lip as he moves the spoon back and forth without meeting her gaze. Krolia swallows, looking down at her bread and not forcing his gaze yet. Keith might be her son, but she’s only known him for about two weeks now. His past is not hers to pry into, but she can’t help but wonder what happened. Keith rarely mentions the paladin, but they’re the only photo he has on his desk side table.

  “I was, yeah, but now I’m not,” Keith answers her, tone short as he shoots Krolia a brief glare. Krolia raises an eyebrow and Keith looks away, taking a few bites of his space goo hurriedly. Right, it’s a sore subject for him. that’s … worrying.

  “Care to tell me why not? They seem like a tight knit group,” Krolia asks as she leans back in her chair, trying to keep her voice casual instead of curious and worried. Krolia can tell that Keith likes the paladins, she’s caught him watching their parades on the news twice just in the two weeks they’ve been on leave, gaze wistful and smile tight every time he sees one of their faces or the Black and Red Lions. He clearly misses them. “I heard the Yellow one says that he keeps your suit clean, so they must miss you.”

  “They shouldn’t,” Keith mutters as he shakes his head, hair falling across his face as he does. Oh, so the paladins didn’t like Keith? Krolia frowns harshly at that, clenching her Karati hard enough that the dough starts to break. Her son, from the little she knows, is a good person. Dedicated and self-sacrificing and quick on his feet. Keith shakes his head quickly, biting his lip as he glances over at her. “I mean – look, I had to be the leader while Shiro was gone, and I was terrible. And then Shiro got back and everyone wanted to do all these parades and I wanted to do something more … direct, and it just didn’t work out, okay?”

  “You sound like you wish it had,” Krolia points out as she crosses her arms against her chest and meets Keith’s gaze. Keith looks like he wants to glance away from her, but he doesn’t, holding hers with a look that’s defeatist and determined all at once. Krolia suspects he doesn’t want to accept that he made a mistake when he was trying to help his friends and the cause. “We could go back, if you wanted. We’re technically on leave right now, and if you wanted to see your friends -”

  “I made my choice already, Krolia. It’s too late for doubts. You should know that better than anyone,” Keith snaps as he rolls to his feet, moving across the room with a surprising swiftness. Krolia doesn’t follow him, she thinks she might have pushed too hard too fast. Still, Krolia’s glad she knows what she does now. It helps her understand her son better, his needs. Now she just needs to figure out how to get him back to where he belongs someday soon.

* * *

  Keith flips backward, sliding his sword from one hand to the other as he strikes toward Krolia’s blade. Krolia twists on her heel, just dodging the swing of her blade. Keith asked her if she wanted to train this morning, figuring it was a good first step toward bonding. If they’re both going to be stuck here on the base, Keith figures they might as well get to know each other while also not getting rusty. Besides, fighting is one of the few things that Keith knows for sure he and Krolia have in common, and he does love a good sparring match.

  Keith swallows as he ducks under her swing, the blade just missing the back of his hair. Keith raises an eyebrow, because Krolia is a trained Blade who also spent years on a dangerous military base. Keith knows he's good, but he’s not _that_ good. “You don’t need to go easy on me, I can take it.”

  “You think I’m going easy on you? Why?” Krolia asks as she glances over at him with a slight frown. Krolia stops mid foot sequence, raising an eyebrow as though she’s confused by the question. But Keith can see a certain playfulness to the gaze, in the way her smile twists a bit as she holds her sword out. It takes Keith a second to realize who it reminds him of, and he’s shocked to realize it’s himself back when he used to spar with Shiro at the Garrison or compete with Lance or – well, back when he had fun. Keith misses that part of himself. “You know, I haven’t been using a sword in a long time. I might just be rusty.”

  “You’re not,” Keith says bluntly as he twists on one foot, blade held out carefully. He also knows that Krolia isn’t, that she spent as much time training with whatever sword she could find as she did with her blasters. Keith knows, because he would’ve done the same thing if he’d had access to something like a lance or a bo stick, and Keith suspects he and Krolia are even more alike than he thought at first.

  “No, I’m not,” Krolia admits as she suddenly strikes, flipping through the air with a grace Keith is a little jealous of. Keith flings himself backward, almost tripping over his own feet as the blade presses against his chest for a second. Krolia leaps back with a playful smile, the training blade not able to do more than make a light indent where it his suit. Still, Keith blinks owlishly and then smirks, because now he’s in for a _real_ fight. “But I have to admit, you’ve got great instincts. With some refinement, you could be one of the finest swordsman in the Blade.”

  Keith freezes, taking a step back as he stares over at his mom – at Krolia, with wide eyes. Keith knows he’s a natural, but it’s … been awhile since he could fully trust his own instincts, in his abilities. Probably since he got forced into leading Voltron. Keith misses that, misses trusting in himself and … well, maybe Keith wouldn’t have stopped trusting himself if he’d trusted the others a bit more. Maybe he can start changing that now, with Krolia. It’s a start. “Do you really think so?”

  “I do, but first you’ve got to learn some stealth,” Krolia answers him with a smirk, leaping back and up, suddenly out of Keith’s sight. Keith blinks owlishly, twisting around to try and find Krolia, only to flinch as he feels a hand on his shoulder. Keith twists around to find Krolia smirking over at him, her yellow eyes glowing mischievously in the dark light of the training room. “I sensed your movements before you even started on the ship. Now we need to work on you being able to do this.”

  Keith grins back at her, jumping back into a sparring position and trusting that Krolia will show him how to move like her. That’s what he has to do. Trust.

* * *

  Krolia frowns tightly as she glances over at Keith, the thick black hair – texture just a bit fluffier than a human’s, if someone looked closely – flops against his shoulders. It reminds her of her own when she first came to earth, even the sheen the same now that she looks closely. She wonders if it will highlight to purple as he grows older or if he’ll get her marks. Sometimes those things show up late. “Your hair’s getting too long to wear loose, it’s going to get in your face during battle.”

  “Yeah, I guess I’ll need to cut it pretty soon,” Keith mutters, brushing a hand against the messy black locks with a slight frown. He doesn’t seem excited by the idea, hands weaving through his hair as he untangles a lock. Krolia thinks that it suits him like this, though maybe that’s just because it makes him look a bit more like her and his father at the same time. They both had long hair when they met on earth.

  “You don’t want to?” Krolia asks quickly, though it’s not a question as she searches her end table for a hair band. After a moment, Keith glances over at her across his shoulder with a small shake of his head, mouth formed into a small ‘o’ of confusion as she holds up the brush and hair tie. Krolia grins, remembering when she used to see that expression on his father’s face. In a lot of ways, he’s the perfect combination of both of them. “Then here, let me take care of it. Sit down in front of me.”

  “What, why?” Keith mutters even as he gingerly sits on the edge of the bed, rubbing a hand against his cheek. Krolia lets out a small laugh, carefully parting Keith’s hair and starting process of crossing his hair back and forth. She starts humming softly as she watches Keith’s shoulders relax. “Are you braiding my hair?”

  “Do you not want me to? I can stop if you’d rather cut it,” Krolia throws out, pausing mid braid, two bits of hair in either hand. Keith turns his head around for a second, just slow enough that he doesn’t knock his hair out of Krolia’s hands. Krolia raises an eyebrow, because she does have a pair of scissors if he’s changed his mind. She’s not as skilled in cutting hair, but Krolia imagines it doesn’t take a lot of skill, just a few strikes of the scissor. Though, his bangs might be harder.

  “No, this is nice,” Keith mumbles after a moment, voice stilted and awkward like he’s afraid to admit it. Krolia guesses that’s to be expected, given their history or lack of it. Krolia doesn’t imagine that Keith accepts favors or niceties from anyone. Keith takes a deep breath, voice small when he speaks, like he’s afraid of her answer. Krolia supposes she can’t blame him for that either. “Did you braid it like this when I was a toddler?”

  “Yes, Keith, I did, I always wanted to teach you, before I left,” Krolia answers him, not able to keep her voice from cracking a little on the word left. It is her only regret, leaving Keith or not finding a way to take Keith with her. Krolia thought leaving him on earth was the best, safest, choice – and it still might have been the latter – but she regrets it every time she sees a hint of anxiety or fear in her son’s face when someone reaches out to him or is mad at him. Krolia knows that she put that there, intentionally or not. It’s her greatest shame.

  “It’s not too late,” Keith tells her after a beat, twisting around so he’s facing her. His smile is soft and hopeful, cocking his head to the side. After a moment, Krolia grins back at him, carefully tying the end of his braid. That’s right. It’s not too late. She and Keith are together now, and she’ll be a mom to him now, as much as she can. They still have time.


End file.
